The Post-Renaissance era of Disney’s animation was definitely a period that broke the mould in terms of what audiences had come to expect from an animated feature. Classic fairytale storytelling was temporarily retired in favour of more experimental and unique narratives, rolling the dice in terms of genre and tone. Whilst this era isn’t exactly known for the commercial success of its projects, some of these bold ventures were at least fruitful in quality. One such wonder is the swashbuckling space adventure, “Treasure Planet” (2002)—a tragically overlooked oddity of the Disney catalogue.
Directors Ron Clements and John Musker have often expressed that “Treasure Planet” was a passion project that the renowned duo had to fight for repeatedly in order to get made. Fortunately, the love behind their labour is palpable in the final product and elevates what could’ve simply been a fun ‘pirates in space’ romp into an affecting story about discovering self-worth. This is all on top of the film being a technical marvel of modern animation.
“Treasure Planet” soars out of the gate with an effective introduction to lead character Jim Hawkins, who’s evolution is the emotional core of the film. When we first meet our hero-to-be, he is an excitable boy with stars in his eyes, marveling at the mystifying feats of notorious space pirates. His zest is contagious and promises a carefree film with a quest carried by this buoyant energy. We are instead thrown for a loop when a seamless match cut transition sees us trading in this chirpy child for a jaded teen delinquent. 12 years later, we find Jim illegally thrill-riding on his solar surfer, in violation of his probation and being escorted home by the police with a final warning before having to face juvenile hall. This tonal shift is the perfect setup for the fun yet thoughtful journey that Clements and Musker take the audience on, and is also an effective foundation for what is one of the best character arcs in any Disney film.
A scene from “Treasure Planet” (Walt Disney Pictures, 2002).
Before the story unfolds, Jim is a promising young man, but is also squandering his life, seeing no meaningful future for himself. For all his gifts, he has internalised this view of himself as a perpetual screw-up, doomed to disappoint anyone who expects anything from him. This has clearly taken its toll on his once close relationship with his mother, who is now at her wits’ end trying to reach him. Jim’s dormant hope is reignited as he is given the chance to go on the quest he’s always dreamed of and maybe even prove himself in the process when a dying pilot bequeaths him with a map to the ultimate pirate treasure—the famed ‘loot of a thousand worlds.’
The world of “Treasure Planet” is imaginative and unique thanks to the highly stylised production design, which abides by a ‘70/30 law.’ The characters and environments were crafted with traits that were 70% traditional in style but infused with 30% sci-fi properties. This leads to some noteworthy choices like the spacecrafts taking the form of sea-ships motorised for sailing through the cosmos, and seemingly colonial flintlock firearms blasting plasma instead of bullets. This same effort extends to the soundtrack—the original score features tracks containing everything from jovial Celtic pipes to the odd electric guitar riff. Also featured are two contemporary pop-rock songs written and performed by Johnny Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls.
The alien inhabitants of the world of “Treasure Planet” show the same inventiveness in their designs, with appearances often borrowing from animal physiology rather than being entirely extra-terrestrial. These designs are well-executed and fit the world so naturally that you don’t even stop to notice that Jim’s family are the only human characters to appear in the film at all. Only when it comes to the more minor villains does this effort prove to be in vain, as the lesser pirate goons blur into a monolithic mob before long.
It would be criminal to discuss the innovation behind “Treasure Planet” without taking a moment to gush over the staggering animation techniques employed. The film seamlessly melds traditional animation with CGI, bringing the world to life with both large scale 3D sets and smaller scale character touches. Cyborg John Silver (Brian Murray) has a hand-drawn body that accommodates a CG render for his prosthetic arm, adding an extra dimension of depth to his movements and mannerisms. The execution is neat enough to accomplish this without becoming a distraction.
Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Brian Murphy in “Treasure Planet.”
However, most impressive is the film’s use of Deep Canvas technology, which gives a dynamic kick to many scenes when the characters are in motion. From scenes showing Jim duck and evade his way through hazards on his solar surfer to foot-chase sequences through narrow metallic corridors, the way the camera is able to weave around these 2D characters makes both the subject and their surroundings pop.
For a film with so many technical triumphs, it’s an impressive feat that the heart of the story is never once overshadowed. In fact, “Treasure Planet” becomes something special when it’s at its most human. Clements and Musker show devotion to telling Jim’s story on a personal level using his relationship with Silver and this pays off immensely. Seemingly scarred by his father’s abandonment of him at such a young age, Jim remains out of reach even for his mother and shows a slight disdain for the adult figures he interacts with, fueling his rebellious streak. Jim’s interactions with Silver are no exception, with their relationship being turbulent but also multi-layered. The characters complement each other well, with Jim still finding his path and Silver having grown weary but hardened due to being so far along on his own. The two are able to develop a profound understanding and respect for each other as the story progresses.
A single montage to Rzeznik’s angsty original track “I’m Still Here” parallels Jim’s newfound friendship with his lack of connection to his father, whose face we never even see during his flashback appearance and perhaps Jim doesn’t even remember. Is this montage corny? A little. Is it effective? Immensely. There are also plenty of smaller moments of tenderness between Jim and Silver that make their bond feel rich and genuine by the final act. Silver gives Jim a sense of belonging that has become foreign to him and begins to look at him with pride.
This bond forged between Jim and his stand-in father figure helps him evolve as he learns to see himself in this very same positive light. It is the first key step for Jim towards finally overcoming the unhealthy lens from which he has been viewing himself and his place in the world and what pushes the character over the precipice into adulthood. To reflect this, Jim is given a sense of initiative and command over the latter half of the plot whereas earlier, he was more a passenger to fate, responding to situations that spawned around him rather than dictating where his story would take him next.
In “Treasure Planet,” the focus is very much on the journey rather than the destination, yet the scale of the adventure itself may be smaller than what the audience would come to expect from a Disney adventure. In fact, a sizable chunk of the runtime is spent on the ship, in transit and this means that there is not as much emphasis on exploration as one might hope. Fortunately, the time spent with the lovable cast of characters makes. From the charming and intrepid Captain Amelia (Emma Thompson) to the eccentric Doctor Doppler (David Hyde Pierce), each is a joy to watch and their ensemble prevents the stagnant scenery of the first half from growing stale.
However, easily the weakest link in this fun cast of characters is dysfunctional sidekick B.E.N (Martin Short)—the talkative comic relief bot introduced in the latter half. Whilst his arrival does come with a significant piece of the plot, it is also a pretty transparent effort to alleviate the darker mood that the story adopts at this point. Although this is an understandable move, the humour does not consistently land and at times even borders on grating. Fortunately, the fun that the cast had in voicing these roles is apparent and the energy injected the characters is consistent across the board.
There’s a magic about returning to a childhood classic that you enjoyed for largely superficial reasons but discovering that you’re now able to connect and appreciate it on an entirely new level. “Treasure Planet” tells a resonant story with an unwaveringly sense of identity. The film stays firmly grounded against all odds, staying resolute in its delivery of a touching story and featuring a relatable protagonist that many would be able to see themselves in, at least at some stage in their lives. This feat in modern animation is worthy of its cult status as an underrated gem and is an example of Disney’s storytelling at its most earnest.
